Teresa Morgan - One Fine Day

Lydia suddenly glanced up at the clock. “Oh, we better be getting back.”

They swallowed down the last of their drinks, and pushed the orange chairs with a scrape under the table. Lydia took both mugs and placed them on a rack with other dirty dishes.

Back behind the reception desk, Lydia handed Steve one of the two headsets. He grinned, realising he was still nervous. She giggled.

“It’s not that bad, honest,” she said.

He was actually going to do this. Actually answer the phone and deal with queries, and serve any customers who came to the desk. Was he having an early midlife crisis – or something worse? His life was in LA, making movies…

Think Clark Kent…trying to find Lois.

He felt more nervous than being butt naked in front of a film crew doing a love scene. This shirt was doing nothing for him. He felt hot and awkward. The heating in this hotel needed turning down. He wanted air. In fact, he could just bolt. He didn’t really need to do this job, he wasn’t even getting paid. He could go back to LA…His comfort zone.

He’d find someone eventually, amongst the gold diggers. Not.

Running away, because he had the money to do so, was not an option. He wasn’t a coward, he chided himself. If he wanted to find someone to love…and who loved him, he did need to try this. He had nothing to lose. If the press got wind, he could always say he was working undercover for research purposes. Anything. It would probably give his PA, Marie, the biggest headache of her life but he could get round it. He’d give her a pay rise.

He took a deep breath, and pulled up his sleeves. “I can do this.”

“You’ll be fine, and I’m here. If you get really stuck just say you’re handing over to a colleague and I’ll take over.” She squeezed his arm and when the phone started ringing his heart sped up. Taking another deep, calming breath, he answered it.

Ruby put the phone down then glanced at her watch; quarter past ten. Steve had done a long enough stint on reception for one day. He could do some more tomorrow. She’d take him to the bar where she wanted him to work most of the time. She felt guilty really, making him work, but there was no way she could have him here doing nothing. She’d have all of her employees complaining, or worse, walking out.

“How was your morning?” Ruby said, leaning against the reception desk, watching Steve fill the printer with paper.

Steve nodded confidently. “Good. Didn’t make too many mistakes did I?” He nudged Lydia.

“Oh, no, you were fine,” Lydia said. Then her smile dropped. “There was just that one time…Sorry, Ruby, we might have a complaint coming in—”

“Shhhh…” Steve’s expression was mischievous, revealing the dimples in his cheeks, “I told you not to tell Ruby about it.”

“About what?” She frowned quizzically.

“Nothing…” Lydia giggled. “Don’t panic, he’s pulling your leg. He told me to say it. I’m a terrible liar.”

“I never!”

Ruby narrowed her eyes at her brother. He’d always teased her as a kid, and here he was winding her up again, getting Lydia to do it, too. Swine .

His flipping smile and sparkly eyes. Whether he was famous or not, they’d get people to do his bidding. I give him a job and this is how he repays me.

“Oh, Ruby,” Lydia reached under the desk and pulled a book out from under it, “here’s that book I said I’d lend you.”

Ruby took the hardback, admired the cover then tucked it under her arm. It was sweet of Lydia to remember the book. She’d only mentioned it in passing a couple of weeks ago. “Thanks. You’ll have to pop over sometime and take a book off my shelf.”

“There’s no need.”

“No I insist.” Ruby turned her attention to Steve, whose expression sobered. “There’s some time before lunch, let’s show you this bar. By the end of the day, I want you producing the best cappuccinos this side of Bristol.”

“See you later, Lydia,” Steve said, and joined Ruby in step as they headed towards the bar.

“How was it really?” Ruby asked, once out of the earshot of Lydia.

“Not bad. I was nervous the first time I picked up the phone.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to man reception too much, only quiet periods when the girls need to take their breaks etc.”

“It was fine, honestly. I’m clocking it up as research.” He chuckled. “And Lydia’s really nice.”

They walked into a room just behind reception. This was Ruby’s favourite area of the hotel, where they usually held their functions. Because the hotel originally was an old Georgian house, this room had a large fireplace. In the winter she always ensured the fire was lit day and night, providing a cosy refuge from the cold for her guests. Two large leather sofas, the colour of caramel, sat in front of the fire, with a low coffee table made of solid oak between them. These were the most popular seats in the room. Scattered around the bar were other comfortable sofas and armchairs, tucked around small tables. Soft music played in the background. It all came together to provide a relaxing atmosphere. At the back of the room was the bar area, where Callum stood wiping glasses and placing them on the back shelf. Ruby was relieved to see he was actually working.

“Callum, would you mind showing Stuart how to work the coffee machine, and where everything is in the bar. Show him how room service works and the general routines.” See, there, didn’t stumble over his name.

“Yes, boss.” Callum saluted and Ruby scowled.

“Callum, less of the cheek, please. You’ll be working with my brother a lot, so I need you to go through your job and what you do – sensibly.” She kept her expression stern, then she turned to Steve. “I’ll leave you here with Callum. I’ll come find you and we could have lunch together?”

“Yeah, Roo, that’ll be great.”

***

“Roo?”

“She’s my sister. You call her that and she’ll probably fry your balls,” Steve said firmly to Callum.

Callum held his hands up defensively. “But I’m okay to call you Stu, right?”

“If you must.” Steve wasn’t enthralled about the name Stu, but as it wasn’t actually his name, he’d let Callum off. Plus, he needed to make friends not enemies, and Callum was young and impressionable. Callum was trying to be ‘cool’, or so he thought.

In the time leading up to lunch, Callum had shown Steve the bar, what drinks they sold, how to work the till, where the cellar was for changing the barrels – they had a couple of beers available on tap. It was all stuff Steve knew through working in bars at Callum’s age. The guy had to be in his early twenties. His attitude sometimes was immature, but generally Callum was a good guy. Steve had probably been the same, though he’d had more confidence with his looks. He’d never been struck with acne like Callum, and being sporty meant he had filled out early on.

“All right, Stu, let me show you how this big boy works.” Callum patted the coffee machine and grinned.

Callum was scrawny, talked a lot about games on his PlayStation, and whenever a pretty girl entered the bar, whether hotel staff or a guest, he’d give Steve a nudge and wink. Again, Steve let Callum talk while he worked. The less Steve spoke the better, he thought, while he was getting used to his new role. This way he reduced the chance of giving something away.

“We get more room service orders in the evening, but sometimes during the day, guests want a posh coffee sent up.” Callum had to raise his voice over the noise as he frothed milk in a stainless steel jug. He wiped the nozzle, then gently tapped the jug on the counter to send the froth to the top. He poured the foamy thick milk into a cup of espresso, sprinkled it with chocolate and grinned. “A perfect cappuccino is one third coffee, one third milk and one third froth.”